


The Book on the Top Shelf

by SterlingAg



Series: I'm (Not) Giving Up On You [5]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: M/M, Relationship turmoil
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-27
Updated: 2014-08-27
Packaged: 2018-02-15 00:00:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2207952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SterlingAg/pseuds/SterlingAg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stiles knows he needs to talk to Derek. How could he let it end like this? But he just can't do it. To have loved someone so completely like he did and then just have all that be questioned was too much. So he goes to the only safe haven he knows--the library.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Book on the Top Shelf

Stiles sat frozen in the driver’s seat of his Jeep. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight, his knuckles were turning white. He had been full of so much resolve but now it was as if he was a deer in the headlights. The second he closed the Jeep’s door, the bottom of his stomach dropped out. He glared at himself in the rearview mirror. His already pale skin had turned positively ashen. Nervous sweat beaded across his forehead and his upper lip. What was he doing? His eyes trailed to the pendant in the passenger seat. The blue piece glinted in the midmorning sunlight. Stiles was the one who had walked out on Derek. Derek was the one who cheated. So he should have to be the one to apologize. Right?  
Stiles shook his head to clear it of any useless thoughts. He pushed any desire to see Derek into the deep recesses of his mind. He wouldn’t allow Derek to have such power over him. Stiles turned the key in the ignition and listened while the engine purred. With an affectionate pat on the dashboard, he pressed on the break and shifted in to reverse. There was the soft sound of gravel as the Jeep moved out of the driveway. There were some books he had put on hold at the library. He might as well go and see if they had come in yet. For a moment he thought he had seen something in the treeline as he was backing up. But he quickly ignored it and drove down the street towards town.

Considering it was a Friday afternoon in the middle of March, Stiles was not the least bit surprised at the emptiness of the library. Stiles walked up to the counter where the library attendant was typing away on her computer.

“Afternoon Gladys,” he greeted, “How’s the manuscript coming along?”

The elderly black woman looked up at him from over the turtle shell frame. She flashed him a smile and leaned back from the computer screen.

“Stiles!” She exclaimed, “I haven’t seen you in ages. You’re definitely a sight for old eyes.”

“Nothing compared to you,” he countered.

Gladys pursed her lips, but her eyes sparkled with a smile.

“You think you’re so smooth. Just remember, I’ve seen you with a bowl cut.”

“Gladys, I thought we promised to never talk about fourth grade ever again.”

She shrugged, “I must have slipped my memory. Darn thing gets rusty with age,” she winked.

“So I’ve heard,” he said with a smile.

“Oh! That scene you helped me with turned out fantastically! My editor says it’s the best he’s ever seen. Something about how all that supernatural stuff seems so real. Even said it had him looking over his shoulder at night!”

“Well, I’m always glad to be of service. It is my field of study after all.”

Gladys dismissively waved her hand, “Wave your credentials at me a little more why don’t you. Even so,” she paused, “Is it really a good idea to put your entire future on something that doesn’t exist?”

“I don’t study actual creatures Gladys,” he said, chuckling slightly, “It’s the study of folklore and anthropology.”

“Of course, of course. You can’t study werewolves and vampires since they aren’t real.”

Stiles’ lips curled in to a smirk, “Exactly. But speaking of which, have the books I wanted come in?”

“Let me check,” she said before clicking a few times with her mouse. A frown crossed her features.

“Sorry honey, looks like they’re still out,” her eyebrows drew together, “And they’re overdue! Why honestly, there is no reason for that.”

Stiles pretended to listen, nodding sympathetically at the appropriate times, as Gladys went off on her rant about overdue books. 

Eventually, she let Stiles go with an agitated huff of breath. She mentioned a deadline she had to meet and released him from his job as her audience. He gave her a nod before retreating towards the cubby in the archives he always used. As per usual, no one was in the rear of the library. Stiles liked it back there. Not many people would ever go back there so he wasn’t usually bothered or distracted. There was a small printer that he had been able to connect his computer to. There wasn’t ever any time he had to wait for other people’s things to print. The printer could even scan and make copies, which was really helpful. It was also nice that he didn’t have to bother one of the attendants for copies any more. Not to mention most of the materials he used and needed were either in the archives or near them. 

The chair moved soundlessly against the outdated carpet. A small spark flew from the outlet as Stiles plugged his charger in. Since his last visit, the books he’d been using had remained undisturbed. He couldn’t help the grin that pulled at his lips as he dove straight back to work. The paper was coming along with renewed vigor and he was positive it would be the best out of his class. Probably the best paper his professor had ever seen actually. Because yeah, Stiles was just that good. 

Finishing yet another quality paragraph, he sat back with a self-satisfied smirk. He stretched, not realizing how long he had been at it, his muscles stiff from sitting in the same position for the extended period of time. He’d actually exhausted one of his sources from using it so much. The printer gave a half-hearted groan as Stiles copied the copyright information in the front of the book. He’d use it later for the bibliography. The copy came out with a mechanic whir and he placed it on his desk. His fingers grasped the old binding of the book and held it against his thigh as he moved between the shelves. 

The scent that books give off—vanillin—surrounded him and comforted him. Since his mother died, Stiles had practically lived in the library. He’d been raised in the library because his mother had been a librarian. Books were how he gained his knowledge and stories molded his life experiences. Perhaps that’s why he had such a knack for folklore. He’d learned his numbers by the Dewey decimal system, social studies from various dusty nonfiction books, was read the classics before bed and dreamt of fantastical lands and white whales. He associated the library with his mother which is probably why he spent so much time there. Not only was it a controlled and comfortable place, it was a space where he felt that his mother was still around. If he just kept going, she would be standing just around the corner. She never was—but the idea always made Stiles smile softly to himself. 

The books didn’t complain as he moved them. There was no drama that he couldn’t control. What a life he did lead. He chuckled as he pushed the book in his hand on to its place on the shelf. The old bindings were soft against the pads of his fingers as moved down the line. His eyes took in all the titles, some in English but many not. A lot of people probably wouldn’t cast a second glance at these ancient tomes, but more times than once had the information on the yellowing pages saved Stiles and his friends. He reached for a particularly battered book, his fingers curling around its spine. When he pulled the book away, he jumped and nearly dropped it.

After he calmed his heart rate he glared at the space the book had come from.

”Derek.” He hissed.

Derek stood on the other side of the shelf, his face now visible in the empty space.

“I need to talk to you,” Derek said, not looking the least bit apologetic. 

Stiles huffed and shoved the book back on to the shelf. He turned sharply and began to walk back to his desk.

“Stiles!” Derek called, coming around the bookshelf and catching up to him quickly. He walked behind him, matching his pace. 

The younger male ignored him and reached the desk. He began to pile the books on top of one another before placing them in to his bag.

Derek let out a long suffering sigh, “Stiles can we please talk?”

“I gave you a chance to talk and you didn’t say anything,” he grumbled back as he unplugged his cord from the wall outlet. He yanked it free with more force than probably necessary. The bunch that he wound it in to before storing it was far from neat.

“I didn’t know what to say then.”

Stiles turned on Derek, holding his MacBook tight to his chest as if it could shield him. His usually warm honeyed eyes were now snapping with fury.

“So what? Now you expect me to listen to you? Because you’ve had time to think about it?”

Derek nodded, “Yes,” he said hurriedly. 

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Stiles scoffed, “No way.”

He shook his head and faced away from Derek. The lip of the bag had fallen closed and the Velcro undid with an angry ripping sound. Stiles stuffed the laptop inside. Bulkier than usual, the bag was awkward to grab and he faltered for a moment. But he pulled it on to his shoulder and went to leave the library. A firm grip on the shoulder strap stopped Stiles in his tracks. Bristling, he turned and followed the hand to its owner. 

“Let go,” he ground out between clenched teeth. 

“Stiles just listen to me—“ Derek pleaded.

“No Derek. You listen to me,” Stiles turned fully on him, yanking the strap and causing Derek to fall forward a bit. Now they were so close that Stiles could feel the unnaturally high temperature of Derek’s body. He could smell the cologne that he wore that Stiles had given him one year for his birthday—a scent light enough not to overpower Derek’s sense of smell. The memory tugged at Stiles heart but he pressed on stubbornly.

“You had your chance and you lost it. Now let go.”

“Stiles—“ 

“I said _let go_!” Stiles yelled, closing his eyes. The sound was swallowed greedily by the old leather books all around them. But even so the deadly quiet of the library was disrupted by the outburst nonetheless. He waited for what seemed like hours, but it could only have been minutes. Then there was the muffled sound of feet on carpet.

“Stiles?” Gladys called, “What’s wrong?”

Stiles slowly opened his eyes. Derek was gone. He swallowed hard and took an unsteady breath.

“Sorry,” He gave Gladys a shaky smile, “Nothing’s wrong.”

He bit the inside of his cheek and looked down at the worn down carpet. The tightness of his chest was almost unbearable and he would swear the strap of his bag was still warm.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm so sorry this took forever! My summer has been much crazier than I thought it would be. I'm super behind in this years Big Bang and that's kind of really frustrating. Thank you so much for hanging in there with me! There's going to be one more chapter in this series so be ready for it! Do you guys think you know how this is going to end????
> 
> Also keep an eye out for an update on Shards of the Sun and Moon; Judas; Big Bad Alpha; and sometime in December I'll post this year's Sterek Big Bang!!!!! 
> 
> Cordially yours,  
> SterlingAg


End file.
